| Spiritual Fiction posted November 8, 2008 |
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A couple meet the end, with two different results
Don't Wait Until Too Late
by redrider6612
It happened as they drove home from the restaurant. Hank was on autopilot, his mind on all the things he had to get done this weekend. Mary was humming to the song on the radio, eyes idly watching the bright lights as they streamed by. Then the car died. Just like that, in the middle of the road, it quit.
Hank swore a blue streak as he cranked at the starter, but two things made him stop. First, Mary wasn’t chiding him for cussing like she usually did. And second, it was suddenly bright as day—no, brighter—even though it was nearly eight-thirty at night.
Mary put her window down and craned her neck to look at the sky. Shaking his head, Hank resumed his fruitless efforts to start the stupid car. What he heard next made the hair stand up on his arms.
“Holy, holy, holy,” a sweet choir sang, softly and with great reverence, over and over.
“What’s going on?” Hank asked as Mary got out of the car and he scrambled to follow her. Up and down the street, people stood beside their vehicles, while others had come out of stores and restaurants. Everyone gaped up at the sky, some with fear, but many with the same awe and wonder that was on Mary’s face. Hank turned his eyes heavenward.
Streams of light poured from the sky. Thousands of angels filled the air, hovering on pearly wings, smiling joyously, singing their never ending chorus of halleluiahs.
“He’s come,” Mary said in a hushed voice. “Just like He promised, the day has come. Praise God.”
“Who?” Hank demanded, though he already suspected.
She didn’t look at him until he touched her arm, and even then he could tell she didn’t really see him. Her face glowed with undiluted joy, and Hank’s breath caught in his chest.
“My Lord, blessed Jesus Christ, has come to take us home,” she whispered excitedly. Then her eyes focused on her husband’s face, and they suddenly filled with tears.
He never could stand to see her cry. He touched her face tenderly, concerned. “Mary? What’s wrong, honey?”
“Not you,” she choked out as the tears streamed down her face. “Too late, too late…” she moaned, and then she held him like she never wanted to let go.
“Too late for what?” he asked as she sobbed against his chest.
She pulled back and the tragedy on her face clutched at his heart. Her voice was pure agony. “I’m so sorry, Hank. I should have tried harder.” Then she turned fierce. “Why didn’t you listen? All the times I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t—“
Comprehension came in a flash and left him stunned. So this was it. The end of days she had told him would come, when believers would be taken up and unbelievers would be judged. He had always scoffed, put her off, and made empty promises. To her credit, she had never given up, in all their forty-two years together. She had prayed over him every night, invited him to church, tried to get him involved in her charitable activities, all to no avail. He was too busy, and besides, he didn’t need God. Wasn’t he a good man?
Suddenly a bank of clouds billowed in the sky and a beautiful, shining figure in blinding white robes appeared amidst them. He smied, holding out His arms to embrace the world.
“I am the Alpha and the Omega. I know My sheep, and My sheep know Me.” The voice surrounded them, clear as crystal and completely unavoidable.
It seemed Hank was about to find out if he was good enough.
Then Mary kissed him, a kiss that tasted of goodbye laced with regret. When she pulled away, there were tears in his eyes, too.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, and the words sounded empty to his ears.
“Me, too,” she replied, holding him for a long moment. With a last, sorrowful look, she backed away. “Goodbye.”
“Wait, Mary!”
“Remember, I’ll always love you, Hank.”
“I love you, Mary,” he cried, but she was gone, and he was left to meet his Maker, to face His final judgment. He had an eternity of regret and pain to endure. His only comfort was that she wasn’t there to suffer with him. She was safe in the arms of her Savior.
It happened as they drove home from the restaurant. Hank was on autopilot, his mind on all the things he had to get done this weekend. Mary was humming to the song on the radio, eyes idly watching the bright lights as they streamed by. Then the car died. Just like that, in the middle of the road, it quit.
Hank swore a blue streak as he cranked at the starter, but two things made him stop. First, Mary wasn’t chiding him for cussing like she usually did. And second, it was suddenly bright as day—no, brighter—even though it was nearly eight-thirty at night.
Mary put her window down and craned her neck to look at the sky. Shaking his head, Hank resumed his fruitless efforts to start the stupid car. What he heard next made the hair stand up on his arms.
“Holy, holy, holy,” a sweet choir sang, softly and with great reverence, over and over.
“What’s going on?” Hank asked as Mary got out of the car and he scrambled to follow her. Up and down the street, people stood beside their vehicles, while others had come out of stores and restaurants. Everyone gaped up at the sky, some with fear, but many with the same awe and wonder that was on Mary’s face. Hank turned his eyes heavenward.
Streams of light poured from the sky. Thousands of angels filled the air, hovering on pearly wings, smiling joyously, singing their never ending chorus of halleluiahs.
“He’s come,” Mary said in a hushed voice. “Just like He promised, the day has come. Praise God.”
“Who?” Hank demanded, though he already suspected.
She didn’t look at him until he touched her arm, and even then he could tell she didn’t really see him. Her face glowed with undiluted joy, and Hank’s breath caught in his chest.
“My Lord, blessed Jesus Christ, has come to take us home,” she whispered excitedly. Then her eyes focused on her husband’s face, and they suddenly filled with tears.
He never could stand to see her cry. He touched her face tenderly, concerned. “Mary? What’s wrong, honey?”
“Not you,” she choked out as the tears streamed down her face. “Too late, too late…” she moaned, and then she held him like she never wanted to let go.
“Too late for what?” he asked as she sobbed against his chest.
She pulled back and the tragedy on her face clutched at his heart. Her voice was pure agony. “I’m so sorry, Hank. I should have tried harder.” Then she turned fierce. “Why didn’t you listen? All the times I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t—“
Comprehension came in a flash and left him stunned. So this was it. The end of days she had told him would come, when believers would be taken up and unbelievers would be judged. He had always scoffed, put her off, and made empty promises. To her credit, she had never given up, in all their forty-two years together. She had prayed over him every night, invited him to church, tried to get him involved in her charitable activities, all to no avail. He was too busy, and besides, he didn’t need God. Wasn’t he a good man?
Suddenly a bank of clouds billowed in the sky and a beautiful, shining figure in blinding white robes appeared amidst them. He smied, holding out His arms to embrace the world.
“I am the Alpha and the Omega. I know My sheep, and My sheep know Me.” The voice surrounded them, clear as crystal and completely unavoidable.
It seemed Hank was about to find out if he was good enough.
Then Mary kissed him, a kiss that tasted of goodbye laced with regret. When she pulled away, there were tears in his eyes, too.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, and the words sounded empty to his ears.
“Me, too,” she replied, holding him for a long moment. With a last, sorrowful look, she backed away. “Goodbye.”
“Wait, Mary!”
“Remember, I’ll always love you, Hank.”
“I love you, Mary,” he cried, but she was gone, and he was left to meet his Maker, to face His final judgment. He had an eternity of regret and pain to endure. His only comfort was that she wasn’t there to suffer with him. She was safe in the arms of her Savior.
 Recognized |
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Flash fiction, 740 words, contest requires that I write a story about two characters at the end of the world.
I had tears in my eyes the whole time as I wrote this. I am married to an unbeliever, and I pray daily that he will come to faith before it's too late. I love him so much, and want to spend eternity with him, but I fear he is too stubborn. This is strictly my fictional take on what I think the end will be like. It is not intended to represent a firm prediction. Nobody knows when the day will come, but when it does, everyone will know at once. This is my belief, based on my study of the Bible.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. I had tears in my eyes the whole time as I wrote this. I am married to an unbeliever, and I pray daily that he will come to faith before it's too late. I love him so much, and want to spend eternity with him, but I fear he is too stubborn. This is strictly my fictional take on what I think the end will be like. It is not intended to represent a firm prediction. Nobody knows when the day will come, but when it does, everyone will know at once. This is my belief, based on my study of the Bible.
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